Lucky at Cards, Unlucky at Treachery
by WhyTK
Summary: Mr. Lucky meets another character created in the 1950's.


The work was done, so it was time to play a little.

I always win when I gamble. I was walking away from the poker table $953 richer than when I sat down. Poker is not my usual game, but when in Rome ...

I handed the dealer a $50 chip.

"Thank you, Sir!" he said.

I smiled and said, "Thank _you_."

I walked over to the bar for a drink before cashing in my chips.

"Good evening, Sir," the barman said with a smile.

"Good evening. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice and then add a thin slice of lemon peel."

"Yes, Sir!" He seemed pleased with the idea.

The tall, elegantly dressed man who had just joined me at the bar said, "That sounds interesting, Henry. I'll have one too."

"Yes, Lucky," Henry replied.

I smiled and extended my hand and said, "You may have that drink only if you let _me_ pay for it, let you have that much of your money back at least."

As he shook my hand, Mr. Lucky laughed and said, "It's a deal! And after your performance at the poker table, I would say that _you_ are the one who is _Lucky_ tonight, Mister ... "

Before I could answer, a man in a bolero jacket and a white ruffled shirt stopped beside Mr. Lucky. He said, "Excuse me, Compadre. _Mister_ Rovacs wants a word with you."

The " _Mister_ " was a bit of discretion for my benefit. It was obvious that Rovacs was the man standing in the door. It was equally obvious that he was normally referred to by his rank. His clothes were two or three cuts, not the proverbially "a cut," below those of everyone else in the room. He was holding his hat. That and the look of impatience on his face clearly said he was not staying long enough to warrant checking his hat. His face also wore the universal look of cop.

Lucky sighed and said, "Duty calls. Please excuse me."

"Certainly."

"I am sorry to interrupt, Senor," added Andamo.

"That's quite all right," I said, and he followed Lucky to where Rovacs waited.

I knew why Rovacs was there. My anonymous phone call had sent the police to Dryden's body, with Mr. Lucky's check - a big one - in his pocket.

Dryden had a gambling habit. He had more luck than skill at it. But his luck came and went, mostly went. That made him desperate for money, and therefore an easy mark for the "opposition."

But his skill at purloining secrets was no better than his skill at gambling, so we were soon on to him. For two months we used him to pass false information. The last lie we sent through him was a big one. When the opposition's operation went smash because of that lie, it was only a matter of time before they killed him.

I beat them to it. I waited for him to win at Lucky's. He won big, bigger than he had ever won before. For my purposes, that was a bonus.

I prefer to work alone. But Dryden knew me, so I couldn't follow him aboard the _Fortuna_. Two other agents, posing as a couple, kept an eye on him, and passed the word to me when he won.

I repeat, Dryden knew me. That was the reason I was given the assignment. When he got back to his flat, or apartment to use the American term, I was waiting for him. When he saw me with a gun in my hand, he knew he was blown. He opened his mouth … to deny, to beg, to make excuses? I will never know, because I killed him before he could say anything.

I shot him with a silenced .22 automatic. The gun was a High Standard. My work involves a great deal of travel, and I always sample the local cuisine. The Quartermaster knows this, and it amused him to equip me with an American firearm for this mission. It worked splendidly. The predecessors of our cousins at Langley used silenced High Standards during the War, and I was glad of the opportunity to try one myself.

He fell after three shots in the center of the chest. I put two more in his head to make sure the job was done. I laid the gun on the floor near the body. His death, with Lucky's big check in his pocket, would send a message: lucky at cards does _not_ mean lucky at treachery.

After I was safely away from the scene, I changed my clothes, made the anonymous phone call to the police, and then I caught the launch to Lucky's for the first time.

Mr. Lucky left with Rovacs. Andamo returned to the bar, just as Henry put the glasses on it.

"Lucky sends his apologies, Senor. He and ... ah, _Mister_ Rovacs have urgent business to discuss."

"That's too bad. And it would be a shame to let his drink go to waste. Perhaps you would do the honors," I said as I lifted one of the glasses and extended it in his direction.

"Gracias, Senor," he replied with a smile as he took the glass. "Lucky made the very same suggestion. He is so thoughtful."

I smiled, raised my glass, and said, " _Salud_!"

With a smile and a slight bow, Andamo replied, " _Salud_!"

We touched our glasses together and took a sip.

"Excellent, Senor! May we have your permission to add it to our menu?"

"I would be honored," I replied as I raised my glass again.

We touched our glasses together again. After another sip, Andamo said, "Truly exquisite, Senor. Does it have a name?"

I was expecting this question, so I was able to manage a smile as I replied, "A Vesper."


End file.
